Ã’ran Arras
ʼIllean, march at ease!
Righ na Sìth bhith mar ruinn
Aʼ dol chun na strì
ʼS chun na cill aig Arras;
‘Illean, march at ease!
Tha ʼnochd, oidhche Luain,
Teannadh suas ri faire,
Aʼ dol chun na h-uaigh
Far nach fhuasgʼlear barrall;
ʼIllean, march at ease!
Tillidh cuid dhinn slà n,
Cuid fo chrà dh lann fala,
ʼS, mar a tha e ʼn dà n,
Roinn le bàs a dhʼfhanas;
ʼIllean, march at ease!
Gus ar tìr a dhìon,
Eadar liath is leanabh,
Mar dhaoin’ às an rian
Nì sinn ʼn sgian a tharraing;
ʼIllean, march at ease!
S lìonmhor fear is té
Tha ʼn tìr nan geug ʼnan caithris
Feitheamh ris an sgeul
Bhios aig a’ chléir ri aithris;
ʼIllean, march at ease!
Gura lìonmhor sùil
Shileas dlùth ʼs nach caidil
Nuair thig fios on Chrùn
Nach bi dùil ri’m balaich;
ʼIllean, march at ease!
Translations of this Poem
The Song of Arras
Lads, march at ease!
The King of Peace be with us
Going to the strife
And to the tomb at Arras;
Lads, march at ease!
Tonight, Monday night,
Moving up to guard,
Going to the grave
Where no bootlace is untied;
Lads, march at ease!
Some of us will return unscathed,
Some in agony of bloody blade,
And, according to our fate,
Some in company of death will stay;
Lads, march at ease!
To defend our land,
From grey hairs to child,
Like men gone mad
We will draw the knife;
Lads, march at ease!
Many men and women
Lie awake in heroes’ land
Waiting for the news
That the clerk has to tell;
Lads, march at ease!
Many an eye will weep
Profusely without sleep
When word comes from the Crown
That their lads won’t be expected;
Lads, march at ease!
translated by Ronald Black
